Mindless Minion
by MoonyPadfootProngs3
Summary: 1972-1979. Death Eaters are on the rise and gaining popularity amongst Pureblood houses, especially the Blacks. Regulus's years at Hogwarts are filled with new friends, new enemies, and a constantly rising tension between him and his only brother (teamed with those incredibly pesky Marauders). But when bonds snap, Regulus must a choice he can never take back.


Chapter 1: I get Pranked Because of Lousy Math Skills

"Siri! Siri wait up!" I yelled, sprinting as fast as I could to try and catch up to my brother. Typically, I'm a much faster runner, but today I guess the combination of shock, excitement, and heart clenching fear slowed me down a bit. The crowds didn't help me gain any speed either, nor did the heavy trolley I was attempting to push while running without dropping a single one of the items inside.

"You bring your immense slowness upon yourself Reg." Sirius called back without bothering to glance behind him. His statement was only half true, as I didn't have any control whatsoever over the suffocating crowds. Kings Cross Station on September 1st, 10am was always packed with wizards and witches with their owls and trolleys, and muggles with their blundering briefcases. There were some things however that I did have some control over, my trunk for example, which sat bulging in my trolley alongside Geoffrey (my incredibly tiny, abnormally cute, and inhumanly demonic White-Faced Scops owl) and the rest of my belongings that wouldn't fit in my already-bewitched-to-hold-insane-amounts-of-unnecessary-stuff trunk. Honestly, I don't see how my parents expect me to be capable of carrying all that stuff once I get to Hogwarts. My dad, Orion Black, managed to convince me to bring a satchel through intense intimidation, but I doubt once I'm at the school I'll ever use it. Sirius has already informed me that a man carrying around a purse was worse than an animal lover carrying around a butcher knife, and that he was embarrassed to be related to me when I wore it out in public. All in all, I think it would be better if once I got to Hogwarts, I could throw the 'man purse' in the nearest rubbish bin and come up with some perfectly believable story to tell my parents when I come back home for the Winter holiday. Even if they didn't believe me, I'd choose their rage over the rage of Sirius Orion Black anyday.

"Well I might actually be able to catch up to you if you weren't going a hundred miles an hour!" I shouted over the hustling bustling of what felt like all of Britain. Some random guy wearing a fancy business suit and carrying a mustardy corn dog scooched past me just as a ten o'clock train took off, sending its petrol steam into the air. The combination of mustard and smoke made me want to puke up what little pieces of toast Mum and Dad forced me to eat this morning, but I convinced myself to hold it in. Today was going to be perfect, it just had to, for today was the first day of my first year at Hogwarts and if anything went wrong today… well, let's just say I really hope nothing does.

"Regulas Arcturus Black, use some math skills. Do you see the pace at which my legs are moving? It's called _walking_." Sirius replied, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, but at least he stopped and I was able to catch up with him. "Well it's no wonder you're sliding along like a snail through here!" Siri exclaimed the second he saw my trolley, his grey eyes the size of full moons. "What'd Mum make you put in there? A rocket?"

Sirius was right, my trunk did look like it was about to explode it was so full, and that was even with the extension spell. I know my mom would never intentionally try to kill me, but if she ever did, this would be the perfectly discreet and painful way to do so. I looked over enviously at his tattered deflated trunk; it was older than mine, and shabbier, but it was most definitely emptier. My brother caught me eyeing his trunk, and nodded narcissistically. "Yeah, I do a pretty epic job of packing. All I have in there is dungbombs, hiccough sweets, frog spawn soap, sugar quills, nose-biting teacups, couple hundred borrowed galleons to buy more joke stuff, and my quidditch stuff." He bragged as we started walking towards the platform, as if tons of pranking supplies was something to be proud of.

I sent Sirius a worried look. "Do you have anything in there… for school?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, and I have the books that actually have stuff I don't already know. Which is mostly the useless stuff like History of Magic, Divination, and Potions." He added.

"What about… clothes?" I wondered aloud, even though I doubted the answer would be appealing.

"Yeah I have a uniform in there, and maybe one or two extra ties." Sirius put in casually. I raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"…A uniform? As in… one?"

Sirius nodded, as if it were perfectly normal to only pack one change of clothes for a year long trip. "Oh yeah, and the clothes I'm wearing now."

I shook my head in disbelief, and_ he's _embarrassed to be related to _me_?

"I have like, three pairs of jeans and quite a few t-shirts, plus some quidditch stuff, it's mostly just the uniforms I skimped out on. I mean, if I rarely ever wear that stuff to class, why bother packing it?" He asked rhetorically, I was about to answer with some incredibly logical explanation, but then realized he probably wouldn't listen, so I didn't bother. The fact that my brother had some extra clothes did make me feel kinda better. "Of course, McG's probably not gonna let me wear that stuff in her room, but it's cool, the teachers are already fighting over who gets me for detention every night, I doubt she's gonna be a big problem, she'll probably just make me clean stuff with Filch again -the blast ended skank- but that's typically the punishment Flitwick or Slughorn'll give me as well, so it really doesn't make that much of a difference." Sirius continued.

Kinda better, but not really.

"My packing abilities could most definitely be worse. I mean, look at what Mum did to your trunk, how do you expect to unpack that all in one night?" He asked. I shrugged, not sure exactly what to say.

"I guess I thought that being the second child would be easier…" I trailed off. Siri sent me a confused look. "You know, Mum took care of you, and I thought that once she realized she was perfectly capable of raising a good kid, she would lay off a little on me and not be so… obsessive. But that attempt of freedom clearly didn't work out." I explained, glancing over at my brother, hoping he would meet my eyes and give me an understanding look, but at this point, Sirius's dark grey orbs seemed to be paying more attention to a crawling beetle on the tile floor than to my wondering look.

There was an awkward silence between the two of us, and I was about to ask if I'd said something that struck a tender chord in Siri when he held out an arm to stop me mid-stride.

"We're here." He said curtly.

I looked at the bare brick post ahead of us, the post to the left read 8, and the one to the right read 9… 8¾… Has Siri completely lost his mind?

My brother started fixing up stuff in my trolley, trying to make it look presentable and feel pushable.

"Um... Siri?" I asked, starting to get really confused.

"Yepersnoodles?" He questioned, not looking up, still attempting to organize my failing trolley.

"What on earth are you doing?"

Sirius sent me a strange glance. "What do you mean what am I doing? Mum and Dad told me to keep an eye on you and help you get onto the platform until they get back from their meeting, and before you get on, your trolley need some_ Sirius _help." He explained, winking as he emphasized the serious. Seriously, my brother really needs to stop overusing those puns.

"I know, I know." I pointed out. "I'm not an idiot." Sirius shrugged as though to disagree, but I ignored him and continued. "But isn't the train on platform 9¾?"

"Of course it is." Sirius exclaimed, sending me another strange glance. "And this is it." He said, gesturing to the brick post between 8 and 9. Now it was my turn to look at my brother like he was an alien.

"Isn't... 9 ¾ between nine and _ten_?" I questioned.

Siri shook his head in (possibly mock, but with my brother, everything's a joke, so it was kinda hard to tell) disappointment. "Reg, Regulas Arcturus Black, as my brother, I expected so much more from you..." He complained in (most definitely mock this time) hurt. "Platform 9 ¾ isn't between nine and ten; it's between nine and eight." He explained.

"Are you sure...?" I asked cautiously. Siri had plenty of experience with tricking me in the past; I wouldn't be surprised if this was another prank. "I'm pretty positive the rules of basic math say 9 ¾ is between nine and ten..."

"_Siriusly_ (that danged pun again), Reg? You'd take the cruel lies of basic math over the kindhearted truth of your own ultra popular genius brother?" Sirius asked and flipped his hair as if we were in some overdramatic soap opera. I had to hand it to my brother; he was born with the flair of the theatre.

"Okay…" I nodded, still not sure if it was the best idea to trust my brother when it came to… well… anything to be honest. Then, Sirius began to prepare his own extremely disorganized but not nearly as overcrowded trolley, and I knew someone with as inflated of an ego as Sirius Orion Black wouldn't dare embarrass himself in front of such a big crowd of people, especially since the majority of them would be joining us on the train.

Wanting to get on the platform before Sirius, I grabbed hold of the handlebars of the trolley, my already pale knuckles turning even whiter with a feeling too complicated for even Einstein to understand. The mustardy smoke that filled my nose and mouth before had completely vanished, and was now completely replaced with dry air, the kind that makes your nose sore by just taking a single breath, and makes the roof of your mouth feel like a stickier, more annoying version of the Sahara. Maybe I had allergies, maybe it was fear, or maybe it was the fact that I knew platform 9¾ was _not _in between 9 and 8 but this was just one of those times when common sense decided to fail me. Those times come about quite often whenever Siri's around. Ignoring the rather annoying feeling that this was not a good idea, I started to run towards the brick post in between the two platforms, headfirst, with the heavy trolley directly in front, filled with the overwhelmingly epic feelings of excitement, anticipation, hope, ambit- CRASH!

The solid wall made contact with my face. I _knew _trusting Sirius was a horrible idea! The world around me seemed to be spinning, everyone was looking, and the devil himself was a few feet away, doubled over with uncontrollable laughter. _Thanks Siri. _I thought bitterly. _Thanks a lot. I really appreciate the heartwarming gift of another one of your murderous pranks. _

Just then, an earsplitting shriek echoed through the station that made the firebreathing roar of a Hungarian Horntail sound like a ladybug. (Do ladybugs even make noise?) Mum and Dad were here, and Sirius was soooooo dead.

"Move it! Move! Get out of my way!" The same voice shrilled from somewhere in the circle of people that had crowded around me after my ultra-humiliating crash. Then, to my (…I'm not sure whether it was relief or horror) a freaking out Mum emerged from the crowd, which was growing by the second. Stony faced Dad was right behind her.

"Well? What are you all looking at, Mudbloods?" He bellowed angrily at the crowd. Although I'm pretty sure the majority of the people staring were either muggles or halfbloods, with a few mudbloods sprinkled here and there and maybe even the occasional exceptionally rare (aside from our family) pureblood, the crowd acted as though my dad had just vowed to slit their throats in the dead of the night or skin them alive and feed their organs to a dragon one by one, or something else ruthlessly horrible (of course, he probably was sending them some kind of telepathic message along those lines with one of his killer death stares that no matter how hard I try I can never seem to mimic) and they immediately went back to whatever muggle, mudblood or halfblood nonsense they were up to before Sirius gave me the brilliant idea to run headfirst into a brick post. Even though everyone looked away, from that point on, the station was a million times quieter, which was much kinder on my ears than on my brain.

Mum rushed over to me. With her cold spidery fingers, she swept away a strand of my slightly overgrown black hair from my eyes. "Are you okay?" She asked in a tight voice, as if it was hard for her to stay calm. I nodded weakly. I could feel my mouth begin to form words, but they not ever got the chance to escape, because the second I figured out what I wanted to say, Mum whipped around to face a suddenly not-so-comical Sirius.

"How dare you!" She shrieked. I flinched away; even though her words weren't directed at me, they were still terrifying. Mum had that effect on people. Sirius somehow managed to stand his ground though, refusing to back away as she advanced. His stubbornness was great and all, but it probably wasn't the smartest move at a time like this. "How dare you hurt your younger brother!"

Sirius stared stonily at her. "_I_ didn't do anything. _He_ was the one to run into the wrong platform."

I held back a sniffle. Sirius had managed to force me into making a fool of myself, ruining my bags, and completely wiping out any hopes I had of a flawless first day at Hogwarts, and somehow it was _my_ fault?

"You're a disgrace, Sirius Orion Black. You're lucky we even let you return to Hogwarts this year. Next year, you might not be so fortunate!" Her hand was on Sirius's shoulder now, clenching it angrily like the talons of a furious bird. If I was him, I probably would've peed my pants.

My brother however, had other, less humiliating, yet more dangerous ideas. He rolled his eyes and yanked out of Mum's grasp. "Next year," He shouted, grey eyes ablaze with intensity. "You might not be so fortunate as to still have two sons!"

And on that, he was gone.


End file.
